Gorgeous Nightmares
by Spike82
Summary: When Sebastian gives Azazel the possibility to free his lover from the duty to warm his bed, but the deal could cost him his soul, Azazel is ready to sacrifice himself for Riptide's freedom. But in the end, can their love save the demon-like mutant? M for mention of past child abuse and rape.
1. Chapter 1

PROLOGUE

Azazel was cuddling the glass in front of him. Only vodka, no ice, no lemon because he wanted the liquor to burn his throat, making him forget everything else.

The club was closed for the night, and even if someone was still present nameless members of the staff, cleaning the floor and putting away glasses and bottles the demon-like mutant was left alone. He knew he was being watched. He knew his look and his tail always brought him unwanted attention the rare times he was seen in public, or semi-public places, but Sebastian Shaw knew better than to let curious people too close to his assassin. So at least in the closest thing Azazel ever had to a home he had the freedom to be around when he wanted, and no one dared to come too close to him. Especially not when he was in a mood, like the one he was experiencing that night. And without Emma, the only one able to read him, to even attempt to invade his privacy could have been lethal. People feared him, other mutants feared him, and Azazel liked that.

He was used to being alone, forced to learn since he was just a child that no one had time to waste on a freak, forced to learn how to survive alone in a world that hated him.

He found comfort in the coolness of the glass pressed against his lips, the transparent liquor quickly burning its way inside him, trying to delete Azazel's overpowering emotions.

The red-skinned demon was tired. He just wanted to sleep after a whole week of missions and too much blood on his hands, but he knew that night he was going to stay awake. Away from his room, their room in truth, their empty room.

His hold on the glass tightened so much that the glass broke in thousands of little splinters and Azazel welcomed the pain. Different from the one brought by his emotions, more familiar to him. He could deal with physical pain; he healed from wounds that would have killed lesser men, but he had no idea how to handle emotional agony.

Azazel closed his eyes, and that was his last mistake. His walls broke and his too-sharp senses gave him the exact measure of his current state. The real root of his turmoil.

_Whisperers of pleasure. Two bodies together. One with white flawless skin, demanding his pleasure. His hands caressing and covering the tanned skin of the other. His fingernails leaving scratches and marks. The dominant one moving, thrusting inside the warm softness. Broken words. Lips claiming and kissing the other's man mouth, showing too much familiarity in the action. _

_Legs parting, the body under the forceful one opening for the other's invasion, leaving nothing to the imagination. _

_Janos. His Janos, so open, so close to his climax. His rich brown eyes closed, his lips red because of too many kisses and bites. His Janos with another man. Giving pleasure to someone else. _

No. Azazel knew that was a mistake. Azazel knew he should stop watching those images in his mind, but he couldn't.

Like he couldn't stop thinking about Janos as his. Even if they never shared those words, even if they never admitted their feelings to each other. It was easier this way, it was easier keeping their silence.

It hurt less, when Sebastian demanded Janos' presence in his rooms. When other men looked at him like he was a banquet and all were free to have a taste.

It was easier to deny that his heart, the heart of a demon, could feel love for someone. Because Janos deserved more than what he could give to him.

In a world where mutants were going to take their rightful place above the humans, the dark-haired young man could finally have everything he wanted - and Azazel was sure that he wasn't what Janos needed.

But he still could do something for the quiet young man who owned his worthless heart in his hands without even know it.

He could find a way to give him his freedom and keep him safe until that moment. Until the moment Riptide would have been free to walk away from everything with the one he freely chose.

And if in the meantime the Master of the Winds was going to grant Azazel his time and his body, Azazel wasn't strong enough to let the possibility pass. 

He stood and left the club, taking the bottle with him, a small pool of blood the only visible sign of his loss of control.

He just wanted some fresh air and to be away from everything for a little while. Then he would have been ready to wear his mask all over again.

To be again the ruthless killer, the cold and controlled soldier Sebastian Shaw was ready to send everywhere, knowing he would have taken back whatever their leader was after.

Azazel always loved the cold. He was born during a winter night, when the snow covered with its whiteness all the dirty in the world.

The wind was playing with his hair, and his long tail was finally free to swing without restrictions. The Black Sea, at night, in winter. Azazel couldn't think about anything more beautiful and wild.

When he had been a child, he had hated his mutation. But now, now that he was able to control his power, he was glad to use it to see places around the world that would have been otherwise unavailable to someone like him.

The bottle empty now, forgotten on the rocks, and yet his mind was alive like always. He bore a sad smile on his face.

Azazel envied the stupid humans able to forget about their problems, able to shut heir minds and live their lives like nothing bad happened in their world. And suddenly he was mad at himself to think like that.

All too soon Azazel realised it was time to come back to the club before someone realised he was gone.

He didn't have any guard duty that night. He never had after a long mission, but that didn't mean he was allowed to wander around.

Shaw was very clear on that point, since the first time their path crossed.

The word wasn't ready yet to know about mutants. The humans didn't need to have time to prepare themselves. So Azazel had to stay hidden, his existence known only by his leader and his victims.

Azazel appeared in his room with a little puff of red smoke.

It was always strange to come back there after a mission. The red-skinned man was used to never share his personal space.

He never had a place to call his when he was growing up, so since the first moment he was able to lock a door, knowing that no one could have been inside his territory, he did so.

Then Riptide entered his life and everything changed. He never had a friend before, so in the beginning he didn't have any idea what to do with him. That and the linguistic barriers that made it almost impossible for them to talk would have pushed everyone else away, but Janos was adamant and unnerving in his desire for them to be friends. And in the end he won.

Now, coming back to that room wasn't like coming back to his room anymore. There always was something belonging to Janos left.

Small things, or big things, that didn't matter. That time it was Janos' pajamas, neatly folded on a pillow. That dark and smooth silk in contrast with the white of the pillowcase, but what hit Azazel hard was Janos' scent.

It permeated the room, like a promising ghost. A tempting whisper of something that wasn't there. And Azazel shivered.

The room was cold - cold and empty. It always seemed cold to Azazel when Riptide wasn't there, even if he knew that was just his mind. The room had the same temperature of any other room, of that he was sure, but still, it wasn't the same. And for the second time that night, Azazel cursed himself and his weakness.

He undressed quickly and slipped under the blankets. He wrapped his tail around himself and closed his eyes, waiting, while Janos' light scent kept him company.

After a long time, the door opened softly, and silently. Janos entered the room like he was afraid to disturb its owner.

In moment like that, the young Latino wasn't able to think about the room as his too. It was simply wrong, in his mind, to go there still smelling of another man.

It didn't matter that it was something he didn't have any control over. His mother tried hard to teach him the difference between something right and something wrong, and above all she tried hard to teach her too quiet and too strange son was a sin was.

In the eyes of God, to sleep with a man was already a huge sin. To sleep with a man cheating on the one you love, was worse.

He went to the bathroom as fast as possible. Hoping, against any hope that Azazel could be asleep, not knowing when he really came back to him. Not knowing how many hours he spent with Sebastian.

He knew that was impossible, but still he hoped. And once in the bathroom he locked the door behind himself.

After the hot water washed away the external evidence of what he did all night - and after he refused to look at himself in the mirror, combing his hair with his long fingers - he was ready to face what remained of the night.

He knew that in the morning no one would talk about what happened. New duties, new missions and no weakness allowed. Those were the rules and both he and Azazel knew well what would happen if they broke them.

Azazel felt the blankets rise and a too warm body slip under them, trying not to disturb him. The red-skinned man hated that.

He wanted to feel Janos, to hold him and be sure he was ok. He hated the walls he could feel the younger man was putting between them.

His eyes were sharp enough to know that his skin was almost as red as his own. Once again his lover used scorching hot water. To punish himself for something that wasn't his fault. And once again the demon waited for Janos to fall asleep. Because his beautiful Riptide was going to look for his warmth once asleep.

With his mind asleep, his body would have been free to look for the comfort he needed but didn't know how to ask for.

Azazel didn't have to wait for too long before he found himself with an armful of a shivering mutant.

In a few hours Riptide was going to be again the strong and powerful master of the winds. For now, fast asleep in Azazel's arms, he was just a young boy used once again, and needing the comfort and safety that his lover could give him.

The older mutant wrapped his tail around Janos' body, knowing well how strangely fascinated his lover was with that part of him, and slowly rocked him all night.


	2. Chapter 2

**I still own nothing. I'm just having a lot of fun torturing the characters. It's my way to show them my love after all...**

**I'd like to ask for a huge favour. I need a Beta to finish this story. If someone is interested in helping me, please send me a private message. **

I

When Janos opened his eyes only a couple of hours after he had fallen asleep, he was looking straight into Azazel's ice coloured ones, but his gaze wasn't cold and distant.. There was a softness in those eyes that Janos knew belonged to him and him alone. He was the only one allowed to see that gaze, and that hurt him even more, as it always did after he cheated on his lover.

"Are you ok?"

Azazel was worried. He hated to see Janos hurt, and he knew in many ways it was his fault. His accent always became thicker when he was worried, and the young Latino knew that.

He didn't want to talk. He didn't want to see the red-skinned man worried or mad; he didn't want to deal with whatever emotions Azazel may be experiencing. Janos needed his lover like always after he spent a night with Shaw. He needed Azazel to give him everything, to claim him back, to tear away all the bad memories, and take back his place inside Janos's mind and body.

Before he could ask more, Janos pressed his lips on Azazel's, taking him by surprise with the hard bites he used to make his love open his mouth and surrender to the kiss.

Azazel found himself flat on his back, his tail swinging madly, offended by the harsh treatment of being crashed and twisted while Janos changed their position.

The red-skinned mutant was forced to look into Janos's eyes and there he saw lust, yes, but above all he saw need. Need for the other man to take away what happened or simply need for him, Azazel couldn't say, but he knew he couldn't deny Janos what he needed and wanted.

Their lips crashed and Azazel felt Janos's tongue almost forcing its way into his mouth. The younger man was demanding in his kiss and Azazel could only open his mouth to welcome Janos's tongue. His younger lover duelled with Azazel for the ownership on the kiss. His tongue pushed into his mouth like it was fucking Azazel, and the man knew well the rage behind Janos's actions. Before they had to break up the kiss to breathe, Janos took Azazel's bottom lip between his white teeth and bit, hard enough to startle his lover and drain a few drops of blood.

The demon felt his lover's tongue lightly lap at his blood and watched, mesmerized, while the pink tongue slowly became red, stained by his blood, almost the same colour of his skin. And for the first time Azazel didn't feel utterly alone in the world.

He put his hands on Janos's still-clothed thighs, caressing the chiselled muscles under the silk, hating the fabric that was keeping him from feeling the smooth skin under his fingers.

His hands ran to his naked back, and finally Azazel could feel what he needed. Riptide's warm skin, his muscles flexing under his touch, his power, flowing in his body, a part of him, and Azazel could feel everything, knowing that was a gift no one else shared.

For Sebastian, Janos was just an object. Something nice to play with, and that meant he never was able to really be himself in his bed. Azazel swore to himself to never block Janos, to never try to control him in bed. Since the first time they were together Azazel always left his lover free to express himself. That was his gift to the younger Latino, or at least the red-skinned mutant hoped it was a gift in his eyes too.

He almost sat up, Janos still on his lap, and claimed back that sinful mouth, this time claiming it, kissing Janos like the first and last time, drinking his moans and whispers. He was getting hard and harder, just because of the taste of his man. Janos had the power to make him lose control, and it was impossible for Azazel to resist even if he was trained to never lose it.

Janos moved his hands too, using his cured fingernails to mark Azazel's skin. He knew no one could ever see the scratches on him, but Janos knew they were there; he knew he was the one who put them on that skin, and that was powerful and intoxicating.

He felt Azazel's hardness and let his hands run to it while still kissing Azazel, sucking and lapping at his tongue with force, claiming everything the other man was ready to give him.

His long and slim fingers reached for the bulge between Azazel's legs, and for a few moments he just tormented his clothed lover, cupping and caressing him, never using enough pressure to give him the release he needed.

His fingers slipped under Azazel's pants, finally meeting the warmness of his flesh. "Mine". Janos tended to be territorial with his lover, every time he touched Azazel, he always said that, he always claimed him, and the red-skinned man let him. He so much wished that was the truth, he so much hoped he could belong to Janos, but his treacherous mind knew better, and always reminded him of the truth, even if Azazel lied to Janos, even if he nodded all the time, admitting something that was never going to happen.

This time Azazel did the same. He nodded again while Janos's fingers lightly scratched his sensitive skin, playing with his sack and tearing from his mouth the most wonton noises that Azazel was able to produce.

Azazel raised his hips, pushing himself against Janos's fingers, needing more of his touch. His mouth was almost ready to beg for that, but his mind was blocking any words of begging he could think about. The younger man used that moment to push Azazel's pants away, freeing his lover and exposing him to his eyes.

Azazel was beautiful. Janos never had other words to describe him. His strangely coloured skin, the scars all over his body, signs of too many battles and too many wars, everything was beautiful in Azazel. Janos hated the world for never allowing the other man to show himself for who he really was.

Azazel moaned loudly when Janos's skilful hand grabbed him, and started to stroke him using the drops of precome to ease the burn and help the friction.

The demon needed to see Janos. Needed to see him naked and aroused, and his. Again, he wanted to beg the younger man, that God that had decided to be merciful enough to allow him to touch and worship his body, but he knew he couldn't. To beg would have opened doors he wasn't ready to face yet.

Those moments were for Janos, to give him back power over his sexuality and life. He didn't need to know what nightmares and darkness was hiding inside Azazel's mind. That was his hell and he couldn't stain Janos with that.

Azazel did the only thing he could think about. He tore apart the delicate silk that dared to come between him and Janos's body, and looked at his perfect body like a starving man to a banquet. The red-skinned man tried not to focus on the signs Sebastian left on him. He didn't care about the fingerprints on his thighs, or the bites on his chest - he saw beyond those, like always.

Janos's cock was already hard and Azazel started to torment it with his nails. He needed to have Janos, needed to feel him, everything of his; it was like a drug Azazel wasn't ready to give up. He simply needed Janos like he needed air.

While continuing to torment the younger man's sex, Azazel slowly lay back, forcing Janos to use more pressure on his body to steady himself. Again Azazel moaned loudly, but today he didn't want to free himself from his lover's hand. He wanted to be inside Janos and claim his body, marking him with his come. He knew that Janos needed it too.

He pressed two fingers against Janos's lips, and the flash of pure lust and desire was almost enough to drive Azazel completely mad.

The brown-eyed mutant bit those fingers lightly before welcoming them into his mouth. He lapped and sucked at them, like he would have done to his cock, coating them in his saliva, making them ready to open him.

When he released them, with an almost obscene noise Azazel took his fingers to the small opening that was the only barrier between him and what he needed the most.

He slowly teased the small ring of muscles, caressing it without pushing inside, just hard enough to make Janos feel it.

"Stop… stop teasing…"

To make his point clear Janos started to move his hand faster, moving his own body against Azazel's fingers like he was riding him.

He needed Azazel inside him; he didn't need his gentle touch or the slow preparation, not today. Today he needed his man.

"Fuck me. Now."

The rage was again there, and Azazel could feel it clearly. He had wanted to make love to Janos, but it was clear that his lover wanted something different.

He pushed one of his wet fingers deep inside the Latino, slowly, preparing him even if the younger man seemed sure he didn't need it, but Azazel would have never hurt him.

When three of his fingers were inside Janos, and Azazel knew his body was relaxed and ready for him, he used his free arm to lift his lover enough to make clear that was time.

Janos put one hand on his lover's chest to steady himself while with the other he led Azazel's cock to his entry.

He used both hands to balance himself and impaled himself on Azazel. The demon would have tried to stop Janos from doing that in any other moment. But he knew Janos needed to erase any memory of another man inside him and to punish himself in the same time. So he always opted for pain, and no matter how carefully Azazel prepared him, or how ready Janos was, his body needed pain to adjust and it always found a way to have exactly that.

Janos started to ride him hard and fast, taking Azazel as deep as possible. He took total control of their movements and interweaved his fingers with Azazel's hand still tormenting his cock. Once again he chose the speed, choosing a punishing rhythm like the one he was using to take Azazel inside himself.

They came together. Azazel deep inside Janos, and Janos all over Azazel's chest, marking his lover with his scent too. But that wasn't enough. Janos needed something more. Something before the dawn.

He moved slowly, taking Azazel with him, and only stopped when he was laying on his side, with Azazel behind him, still deep inside his body.

Now he could forget, at least for a little bit, what happened with another man, and be ready for another day.


End file.
